


Voices

by BloodyAbattoir



Series: Your Reality Is A Nightmare [12]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Hallucinations, Mental Anguish, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Self-Esteem, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Verbal Abuse, auditory hallucinations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 10:25:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18798469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodyAbattoir/pseuds/BloodyAbattoir
Summary: The voices in your head play back all the insults you've heard through your life.





	Voices

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ValentineRevenge](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValentineRevenge/gifts).



You stared at your reflection in the mirror. In your mind, all the insults that had been hurled at you throughout your life replayed, one over the other, screaming at you. 

 

_Worthless._

 

**Failure**

_Idiot_

**Pathetic**

_Ugly_

**Crazy**

_Liar_

**Bitch**

_Psycho_

I **gnorant**

_Fat_

**Lazy**

_Unwanted_

**Average**

_Unimaginative_

**Plain**

_Stupid_

**Garbage**

 

The voices in your head grow louder and louder, until they're practically like having someone yelling in your skull. 

 

You let out a scream of frustration, holding your head in your hands. It isn't enough to make the voices silent. They continue to hurl insults at you, dragging you down further. 

 

You had been fighting against your own mind for too long. At this point in time, it was a battle that you were losing, slowly and painfully. You let out another scream, this one charged with rage, before punching the mirror. 

 

It shatters, and you are left staring at a dozen reflections of yourself. Pain radiates from your knuckles all the way up your arm. You knew that something must be broken, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. The pain makes you furious, and rage courses through your veins. 

 

You don't want to feel it, feel any of it. You don't want to feel anything at all in this point in time. As if in a trance, you draw your fist back and strike at the mirror a handful of times. You don't keep track. By the time you're done, The mirror is shattered into tiny specks smaller than a fingernail, and covered in blood. 


End file.
